Grant

"I want a gun." I demand looking seriously at Clae and Michael, who are not quite sure about giving me one. "What are you looking at?" Look for her! ”I exclaim impatiently, gesturing with my arms.

"You're not going to kill in cold blood, Grant." Michael looks at me seriously and I roll my eyes like a small child.

"It's my style, the weapon," I insist.

-Not.

"Okay, I'll go out to kill with knives then, ah, I hate it when my hands get dirty." I get up, grimacing in disgust.

“You're fucking sick!” Clae yells. I smile and stop to turn and look at her, she looks at me too and now she looks scared.

"So sick I'd kill you right now," I smile cynically.

"This isn't a game, it's a job," Michael reproaches.

"I must warm up my gun and these hands to get back to work, don't worry, I'll kill any homeless man," I say without failing my smile, I take a cigarette out of my leather jacket and light it.

"Clae, give him a gun." Michael finally relents which makes me laugh. He stares at him for seconds assimilating what he has said.

"You heard it, dog, the gun." I snap my fingers. He rolls his eyes and leaves the apartment.

"Take a shower and change, I'll go with you," he says seriously.

"I don't need a babysitter."

"Damn, I'll have to improvise something with my hands." I sighed looking at my hands and then I smirked but apparently, he is not amused. I roll my eyes once more. "The fucking fun is over here, I'll go change." I do the same procedure with the cigar, throwing it on the ground and extinguish the butt with my boot.

"There are new clothes in the closet, Clae has taken care of that."

I grimace but don't say anything else. I walk down the hall to the bathroom, turn on the shower tap and after taking off my clothes I step into it. After a few minutes I go out, grab a clean white towel and wrap it around my hips. The apartment has been cleaned. When I go out to my room I find Clae standing looking at me impatiently but apparently when she sees me without a shirt she looks nervous.

"Put this on," he says, pointing to a clothes on the bed, black clothes like the ones I usually wear.

"Get in the bitch position to fuck yourself."

She frowns and then rolls her eyes, understanding that I don't like being sent.

"Your closet hasn't changed, it's just the same newer and more expensive clothes," he says walking to a chair and then sits down.

"You're not welcome to see this." I wrinkle my nose and point at my penis.

"It's not something I haven't seen before, get dressed," she answers nonchalantly. I smile from the side and walk towards her, my smile increasing when I notice that she looks at me nervously.

I place my index finger under her chin making her rise as I look directly at her lips and then smile again, seeing that she has followed me and looks stupid at me.

"Do you know how much I want to stick a gun in your mouth right now and pull the trigger?" I whisper in his ear, he pulls away hitting me in the chest.

-Fool.

"Get out of the room," she ordered dryly, giving me another one of her hateful glances, she turned around and left in silence.

After I have dressed, I go to the kitchen where I find Clae and Michael talking. There is a briefcase on the counter and other boxes next to it.

"You're presentable again," says Michael and flashes a proud smile.

"Clae," Michael tells her. She nods and opens the briefcase, there is a pistol in it and its reloads on the side.

"Browning GP-35, one of the best pistols and it's loaded," he says, pulling it out and then hands it to me.

I take it and look at it, smile and tuck it in my waistband behind my back, covering it with flannel and jacket. He closes the briefcase and takes a small box which he opens, taking out a phone.

"We need to contact you, we have taken away any type of location, IPhone5s." He tells me, handing me the black phone, I take it and put it in one of the pockets.

"New cigars." He hands me the box of cigarettes. "New lighter." I grab it just the same and put them in the same jacket pocket.

"And finally ..." take a wallet. "Money, it's full, try to save it until you get back to work and get paid."

"It's the only time in my life that I'm happy for you to talk to me." I smile, he glares at me and Michael shakes his head over and over again.

"Thanks Clae, you can go rest for today, see you tomorrow." Michael seems so professional that it makes me nauseous.

"Okay, bye," she says, smiling slightly and gesturing with her hand.

“Finally!” I snort.

"There's a little neighborhood in Montreal that I haven't visited yet, there's some kind of teenagers getting into drugs."

"Kill children?" I didn't exactly have that in mind. ”I wince.

"That would be doing charity work, Michael."

He looks at me impatiently once more.

"You want to go kill in cold blood ?!" Then go do it! But it won't make you feel better. — he yells annoyed. I click my tongue and then glare at him.

"Okay, I won't kill anyone innocent tonight." I roll my eyes.